


dirty little secret

by venvephe



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hockey Fights, Implied/Referenced Sex, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mild Blood, Secret Relationship, Soft Hockey Boys, the bed squeak sound effect from baby don't like it except it's shower sandals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29438397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venvephe/pseuds/venvephe
Summary: It's in every kiss, every touch - every bruise they can't explain. Every heated glance that's a promise of what's to come later, behind closed doors, just the two of them:You are the only one who needs to know.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 49
Kudos: 482
Collections: Challenge #5 — I heard a secret..





	dirty little secret

**Author's Note:**

> For the February '21 round of A Little Wonder Fest. Title from The All-American Reject's song of the same name - as soon as I learned that the theme would be "secrets" this song was stuck in my head. Small warning for (offscreen) typical hockey violence and mentions of blood because... hockey. (Although I have to say, very excited to finally put my hockey knowledge to use for good! It's taken me far too long to write a hockey AU when I went immediately feral for 90s Love last fall. But who didn't, right?)
> 
> Also - this is both my first MarkHyuck fic _and_ my 50th work on AO3! Very excited to finally dip my toe into a pairing I love but haven't written as of yet!
> 
> All my love to m_writes and andreanna, as always, for being the best cheer-readers and betas and besties in all of ficdom. It's a joy to write with you and be creative together these days and hopefully forever, regardless of fandom. Y'all are stuck with me.
> 
> Enjoy!

When Mark gets his first hat trick of the season, the crowd absolutely _roars._

Lucas crashes into him, yelling - and then Taeyong and Jaemin and Jeno pile onto him, too. His third goal is only two minutes from the final buzzer, from a decisive win on home ice. By the time the clock hits zero, the cheering crowd has totally drowned out the sounds of the game.

Somehow, the locker room afterwards is even _louder_.

“That’s our boy!” Ten crows, slapping Mark’s ass as they head down the tunnel. Mark feels himself flush with pride. “You played well, baby. Gonna celebrate tonight?”

Donghyuck looks up from unlacing his skates as Mark passes him. Their eyes catch; the corner of Donghyuck’s mouth twitches up in a smirk.

“Yeah,” Yuta calls, wadding up a ball of stick tape and lobbing it in Mark’s direction. “You know what the reward for a hatty is.”

Mark rolls his eyes at Yuta’s suggestive eyebrow-waggle; from across the room, someone that sounds suspiciously like Na Jaemin bellows _hatty sex,_ only to be smothered by a sweaty hockey glove.

“I’m just glad we won,” Mark shucks his sweater, running a hand through his damp helmet-hair. At least his blush can be explained by the adrenaline of their last shift.

“So humble, our ace,” Taeyong gives Mark a smile - and Mark has to duck his head as he strips off the rest of his pads. Even with the team hooting and hollering, high off the win, it’s hard to focus on anything but the weight of Donghyuck’s eyes on his bare skin.

It’s what keeps Mark lingering in the showers until his fingers have pruned, waiting for the rest of the team to leave - until it’s just him and Donghyuck under the steam and spray.

Donghyuck’s sliders squeak wetly when he finally approaches Mark, skin flushed and gaze heated. “So, our _ace._ Mr. Hat Trick. A reward is in order, hm?”

Mark’s been running hot all night, but Donghyuck’s teasing tone sends a shiver down his spine. “I don’t need a reward for -”

“You deserve one.” Donghyuck licks his lips. He’s close enough to touch, hair curling and damp against his forehead. “That hat trick was _hot.”_

“You don’t have to,” Mark whispers over the sound of the water.

“I _want_ to,” Donghyuck murmurs. His palms are so, so warm against Mark’s bare shoulders - and his tongue even hotter, when it slips into Mark’s mouth.

But the kiss is brief. Mark blinks his eyes open, bereft - only to groan deep in his chest at the sight of Donghyuck sinking to his knees. His lips are already kiss-swollen pink, pupils blown. And he’s giving Mark that devastating smile, the one Mark knows means that Donghyuck has a trick up his sleeve.

Oh, fuck.

They’ve been hooking up for a while now, but this -

“The guys’re gonna miss us if we take too long,” Mark warns, slipping a hand into Donghyuck’s hair as he kneads the sore muscles at the front of Mark’s thighs. Mark’s heart rabbits against his ribs; it should be embarrassing that he’s half-hard just from Donghyuck getting on his knees in his fucking _sliders,_ in the fucking _locker room showers,_ but they’re already well past the point of no return. “ _Hyuck_ -”

“Mark,” Donghyuck says, leaning in; Mark can feel the exhale of his own name against his cock, wet and sensitive. There’s a teasing playfulness to the slant of Donghyuck’s mouth, in the glitter of his dark eyes. “Then we better hurry up, huh? Let’s _celly.”_

Any response Mark might have dies on his tongue as Donghyuck swallows him down in one go.

And if Mark has to shove his own fist in his mouth to keep quiet when he comes, and if he nearly brains himself on the tile when he pulls Donghyuck up to return the favor, and if Donghyuck’s laughter cut off by a gasp is the hottest thing Mark’s ever heard -

Well. No one else has to know.

\---

Mark’s just finished brushing his teeth when there’s a knock on his hotel door. He’s not surprised when it’s Donghyuck who brushes past him and faceplants on his bed.

“Johnny kicked me out,” Donghyuck says, voice muffled by the duvet. “A _movie night with Ten._ Like they aren’t just gonna fall asleep halfway through and cuddle all night.”

 _Sometimes you need a pretense,_ Mark doesn’t say. “You know you can always crash with me.”

Donghyuck looks up slowly, meeting Mark’s eyes. He rakes a hand through his hair; the hem of his hoodie is riding up, revealing a tan strip of skin just above his waistband.

“Did -” Mark cuts himself off, swallowing thickly. “Did anyone see you walk over here?”

“I know it’s past curfew, but Johnny would vouch for me. He’s the A, after all.”

Mark flushes. “That’s not what I meant.”

A knowing smile blooms across Donghyuck’s face and he makes a show of turning over, propping himself up on his elbows. “No, all the _good_ hockey boys are in bed already.”

Mark can’t help it; he’s drawn in like a moth to a flame. It’s only four steps to cross the room and stand in the vee of Donghyuck’s spread thighs, the bed dipping under Mark’s weight when he anchors his hands by Donghyuck’s ribs. “And what does that make you?”

“Whatever you want me to be,” Donghyuck whispers. Mark kisses the smirk right off his lips, stomach flipping at the way Donghyuck grins into it.

The wet sound when they pull apart is obscene. Donghyuck’s fingers flex in Mark’s hair. “Minty.”

“I was getting ready for bed,” Mark explains. His greedy fingers have already started to sneak under Donghyuck’s shirt, seeking bare skin. “But I’d rather taste you.”

It’s a heady thing, to watch Donghyuck’s pupils blow wide, to feel as much as hear the hitch of breath in his chest.

“You should,” Donghyuck breathes, reaching for Mark’s shirt in return.

They don’t talk much after that.

\---

“Oh? What’s this?”

Mark looks up from taping his socks to see Jaemin plop down next to Donghyuck, squinting at Donghyuck’s neck. Like most of them, Donghyuck wears a shirt under his pads - Lucas is the notable exception - but the collar of his tee has pulled to the side, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of skin.

And, apparently, something worthy of Jaemin’s attention.

Donghyuck shoves him away, but Jaemin just rocks back, grinning. “Go bother your D-partner and get out of my face, Nana.”

Jaemin’s smirk only grows. “Now why would I do that when we could talk about the vampire you’re hooking up with instead? Looks like we’re on _Haechan Hickey Watch_ again, boys!”

Oh, _god._

There’s only about a dozen of them in the locker room, but every head swivels towards Donghyuck in a matter of seconds. If there’s one thing Mark has learned from team sports, it’s that _nobody_ has gossip on lock like a hockey team.

To his credit, Donghyuck doesn’t move to cover his neck or the very unsubtle marks - god, _Marks -_ that form a constellation of pink and purple along his collarbones. He just smirks right back at Jaemin, raising an eyebrow.

“Jealous you aren’t getting any?”

Jaemin scooches closer. “C’mon, spill -”

“I hope you’re using protection,” Doyoung says mildly, just as Taeyong walks in. Jaehyun and Jungwoo collapse into each other with laughter at the pained and confused expression on their captain’s face, and that pretty much launches the entire team into chaos.

Except Mark, who bends to finish tying off his tape, ducking to hide his red ears. He can still hear Jaemin - and now Jeno and Yangyang - chirping at Donghyuck, trying to get him to reveal more about his _mystery sexcapades_.

The thing is -

They talked about this. Mark and Donghyuck. It was a mutual decision at the start of the season that they both wanted to keep… doing what they’re doing, but that it needed to stay hidden from the team.

Secret. Something just for them.

Mark has no right to feel as stung as he does when it was his idea in the first place.

But now - listening to Donghyuck’s sly implications from across the crowded locker room - something roils in Mark’s belly. The feeling burns as it claws its way up his throat.

He keeps his head down as he tightens his skates one more time - or at least tries to focus on the upcoming practice rather than on Donghyuck’s voice, clear as a bell when he laughs and says _wouldn’t you like to know._

Mark doesn’t think he’s a particularly jealous person - except maybe he is, when it comes to Donghyuck.

Ten’s watching him, head tilted in curiosity, when Mark finally stands and grabs his helmet and stick. He doesn’t say anything as Mark clomps out of the locker room and down the tunnel, towards the ice.

Mark can feel Donghyuck’s eyes following him, but Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, either.

\---

The door slams open with a bang that feels like it ricochets inside Mark’s skull. He blinks, cradling a handful of tissues to his bloodied nose.

It’s Donghyuck. Of course it’s Donghyuck.

“You stupid -” Donghyuck cuts himself off, kicks the door closed behind him. He makes a quick survey of the room: Mark’s jersey, blood staining the white collar; the creased, crinkly paper sheet over the exam table; the blooming bruises on Mark’s knuckles, on the apple of his cheek.

“Donghyuck,” Mark sighs, tired; turns out the adrenaline crash from a fight is even worse than that of a shootout. “How are - are you okay?”

“I’m _fine,_ you dumbass,” Donghyuck snaps, fists clenching and unclenching - like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Whether he wants to wring Mark’s neck or - or something else. “I took a bad hit; _I’m_ not the one who started a fight with a goon twice my fucking size.”

Mark can feel his hackles rise, but he’s helpless to stop it. Heat rushes to his face. “Hyuck, you went _down,_ what was I supposed to -”

“Not - fucking -” Donghyuck exhales explosively. “Not jump to _defend my honor_ like you’re my _boyfriend_ and I’m in need of protecting.”

The fire in Mark’s chest gutters. “I’m not your boyfriend,” he says quietly. Shame and guilt mix in his chest and sink towards his belly, heavy and acrid.

Donghyuck’s face twists into something like pain before smoothing over, carefully blank. Unreadable. It’s more of a blow than the fucking punches were on the ice.

“Exactly,” Donghyuck murmurs. “That’s what you said you wanted.”

“Hyuck -”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “No. You don’t get to do this, Mark. You can’t say we need to keep this - _us_ \- a secret and then start a fight when I take a dirty hit. We play _hockey,_ for fuck’s sake. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” Mark says softly. “I just -”

“You just what?” Donghyuck asks. His shoulders slump and he breaks Mark’s gaze, fingernails biting into his palms. “This isn’t - I can’t do this anymore. Figure out what you want, Mark. I can’t be yours only when we’re off the ice. I _won’t_ be yours if it has to stay a secret.”

Mark opens his mouth to reply - to say something, _anything_ of what he feels. Nothing comes out. Donghyuck’s eyes shine in the harsh light and he spins on his heel, wrenching open the door.

He’s gone just like that. Donghyuck’s footsteps echo in the corridor, leaving behind a ringing silence in Mark’s ears.

Mark tongues at his swollen lip. His nose has started to bleed again, sluggishly, and he shivers in the sudden cold.

Fuck.

\---

The team bus is quiet when Mark shuffles up the steps, bone-tired. He winces when he knocks his backpack against the first seat and it pulls at the bruise on his shoulder.

A few heads look up as he makes his way down the rows, but most of the team is already napping, or heads-down with earbuds in. Mark avoids Johnny’s searching gaze, ducks his head until he finds a seat.

He doesn’t wanna talk about it.

There’s still an ache in Mark’s chest of something molten that has cooled too soon. It pulls worse against his ribs than the bruises, when he sits heavily in an empty window seat.

Mark leans his head against the chilly glass and closes his eyes.

Donghyuck is right; he’s been right all along. This hasn’t been fair to either of them - keeping it a secret, refusing to acknowledge his own growing feelings. For all that Mark is the older one, Donghyuck has always been quicker to see through to the heart of things.

And Mark -

Mark’s tired of hiding from his feelings. He’s tired of hiding all of it.

The seat next to him groans in complaint as someone sits, and Mark exhales through his nose. He’s really not in the mood for a lecture, or much of anything by way of conversation, even if his teammates mean well.

His eyes flutter open when a weight settles carefully onto his shoulder.

It’s Donghyuck. Mark’s stomach twists.

“I’m still mad at you,” Donghyuck whispers. The tip of his nose is cold when he turns into the crook of Mark’s neck, burrowing closer with a sigh. Mark can feel the drag of his eyelashes as Donghyuk’s eyes flutter closed. “Just - let me.”

Mark’s throat bobs as he swallows around the lump suddenly lodged there. “Okay,” he whispers back.

Donghyuck shifts a little closer, finding a comfortable position pillowed on Mark’s collarbones. They’re touching shoulder to knee, a warm line of contact that seeps into the sore places in Mark’s chest.

He doesn’t let himself think too hard when his hand slips down to cup Donghyuck’s thigh.

Donghyuck makes a soft, sleepy sound against him, but doesn’t move - not when the bus starts to drive and not later, halfway home, when Mark carefully turns to press his nose into Donghyuck’s hair. It’s soft, still damp from a post-game shower.

He smells like he always does. Mark closes his eyes as he breathes in. He wants to drown in it.

Why is he denying them this? Every reason - _excuse -_ Mark gave Donghyuck at the start of all this now buckles under the weight of his heart. He wants this - wants _them,_ together. He’s not ashamed of Donghyuck or his own feelings, or - or afraid of what the team might think.

Mark wants to be Donghyuck’s boyfriend when they’re on the ice _and_ off of it, when they’re hanging out with the team or at home, just the two of them. Mark wants to see Donghyuck roll his eyes when he flirts badly in the locker room; he wants to kiss Donghyuck good luck before games without having to find a place to hide.

Mark wants all of it.

He kisses the crown of Donghyuck’s head. Mark wants everything with Donghyuck, and that isn’t a secret he should keep.

\---

“Uh,” Mark starts - then clears his throat and raises his voice to be heard over the usual din of the locker room. “Uh - yo, listen up!”

Taeyong catches his eye, and in an act of mercy, knocks the blade of his stick on his stall until most of the team pays attention. They’re bright-eyed and sweaty, post-practice; Mark feels himself flush under the sudden attention, even though this was his idea. “Guys, c’mon - Mark has something to say.”

Mark ignores the obnoxious call of _Mark Leeeeeee_ from the rookie line and licks his lips, trying to find the right words. Donghyuck looks up at him from his stall, mouth pursed. It’s been three days since the fight, since they last talked.

He has to do this.

“I - um,” Mark stammers. “I just wanted to say that… we’re like, really close as a team - and that’s one of the things I love most about hockey. But I haven’t been totally honest with you, and I don’t wanna keep secrets anymore. Not when… not when it’s something so important.”

Donghyuck’s eyes lock on his, and Mark’s heart kicks in his chest. He doesn’t look away.

“Donghyuck and I are together,” he says, and keeps going even after literal gasps fill the room, “and we have been for a while. Sorry for - sorry for not telling you sooner.”

There’s only a beat of quiet before the room erupts with noise, but Mark’s eyes never leave Donghyuck’s. It’s such a beautiful thing, to watch the smile unfold like a sunrise on his face.

“What!” Jaehyun says somewhere to Mark’s left, clearly exaggerating. “Mark? Our _son?_ And _Donghyuck?”_

“Jaehyun, please,” Doyoung sighs. A hand claps him on the shoulder and that’s all the warning Mark gets before Johnny has him in a headlock, ruffling his hair. “Bro! Good for you dude -”

“Pay up,” Mark hears Renjun say, palm up Jeno and Chenle’s direction.

“But really, we are happy for you both -” Taeyong starts, and Mark’s head is nearly spinning from the overflow of noise when suddenly Donghyuck is there, circling his fingers around Mark’s wrist and pulling him away.

“Hands off my boyfriend, Suh,” he says, dragging Mark back towards the rink. “Find your own hockey ace, this one’s mine.”

Mark nearly trips over his own skates, red to his ears. “Oh, I - I am, aren’t I.”

Donghyuck’s bright laughter echoes down the tunnel. Mark’s missed the sound of it. “You just said so, didn’t you? C’mon, I want to kiss my _boyfriend_ at center ice.”

“Practice is over,” Mark reminds him; he catches Donghyuck’s hand in his and tangles their fingers. “The zamboni’s gonna be out in, like, six minutes.”

“Yeah?” Donghyuck says, cocking his head, a tease. “And what if someone catches us?”

Mark grins. “Let them. Well - I don’t wanna be run over by a zamboni. But besides that, I don’t care who sees.”

Donghyuck’s smile is incandescent as he steps onto the ice. “Then I guess you better hurry up and kiss me.”

And for the first time - on ice - Mark does.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ven_writes?s=20) | [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/venvephe)


End file.
